The beautiful, crazy lovechild of Franz Kafka and Shirley Jackson. Our hero Pew awakes in a church somewhere in a small town, with no idea who they are or how they got there, and no particular interest in finding out – unlike the rest of the town, who will not rest until they have worked out who and what exactly the stranger is. Pew speaks brilliantly to the needs of society to assign labels, sort and categorise, and above all, fill the silence with noisy clatter even as we claim we crave quiet.
From the publisher:
‘I consumed it. It is the electric charge we need’ Daisy Johnson, author of Everything Under
One Sunday morning, a mysterious silent figure is found sleeping in a church in an unnamed American town. The congregants call this amnesiac ‘Pew’ and seek to uncover who they are: their age; their gender, their race, their intentions. Are they an orphan, or something worse? What terrible trouble is Pew running from? And why won’t they speak?
Unable to agree on how to treat a person they cannot categorize – whether to adopt or imprison, help or harm them – this small town is quickly undone by Pew’s terrifying silence. What remains is a foreboding, provocative, and amorphous fable about the world today: our borders and our boundaries, our fears and our woes.